


Wrong/Right

by DigitalGhost



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Coming Out, Fluff, Internalized Transphobia, Kisses, M/M, Soft kissing, Trans Boy P.I.X.A.L., Trans Jay Walker, Trans Male Character, Trans P.I.X.A.L., Transitioning, Transphobia, at the end, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:09:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalGhost/pseuds/DigitalGhost
Summary: Pixal has always felt something wrong about her body, but robots aren't supposed to feel wrong...





	Wrong/Right

**Author's Note:**

> me: i wanna write out my dysphoria issues  
> me to me: ok... but make it gay

Pixal knew there was… some error.

She felt it whenever some of the ninja stopped by to check on Mr. Borg's work, or when she caught a glimpse of them training, dressed in tight-fitting shirts and shorts. Her eyes would analyze their lean-built upper bodies, small hips to match their small waists. Of course, Jay's waist was of a different sort, but she still eyed his flat chest.

Pixal always felt something was wrong. When her battery was set to charge, when Mr. Borg powered her down for maintenance, when she simply 'hung out' with Zane and his friends. There was always something wrong.

One night, she stood by herself in a control room, unclothed. The window to the testing room showed a faint reflection.

Shining silver hair was tousled up in a bun, bangs spilling low. Ashamed green eyes met their twins, a perfect, soft face framed with pity. Fine arms wrapped themselves around a slim waist, fingers grasping and scratching at the cool, stationary skin. Breasts, engineered to be flawless, swooped forward from the neckbone, shaping the hour-glass form of the body. Snow-white legs curved gently inward, no extra bulge or mass in sight.

A perfect body, engineerically and aesthetically speaking. Softness, and curved, designed to distract the eyes, lull the sense, indicate pleasantry. The reality was not very pleasant at all.

The form in the mirror bent in on itself, bending forward, wrapping up in its own skin until it was no longer visible in the semi-transparent reflection. The alight green eyes scrunched up with tears, something that hadn't been previously experienced by the android.

The bot that, despite it programming to not feel, felt so wrong in its living. Its physicality. Its body. All felt wrong.

It pained the android on the floor, to know that if it were to tell anyone, to ask, even of curiosity, they would doubt. Doubt it was functioning correctly, for robots are not supposed to feel things, let alone feel their given metal person was wrong in some way? For whomever the crumpled form would tell, they would pass on the note of the malfunction to its father, the creator. He would shake his head at his newest and thought to be best creation, deactivate it, start again. The replacement would feel no wrongness to its body, no shame when sparing a glance at its hips and curved, no envy when eyeing the male persons who came to visit. The new android would truly be perfect, flawless, delicate, pleasant, all that it was meant to be.

But the current model… It was not programmed to experience human emotion, let alone understand it, and so the concept of want… On the 57% chance it understood correctly, it wanted… difference. It wanted a body like so many of those it observed each day. It wanted change.

Yet, it was supposed to. Pre-programmed with instructions, thing were to stay the same. Activate, invite, smile, inform, display, answer, smile, de-activate, repeat. That was it. There was no change- no difference, no distractions, no new.

But it wanted new, so terribley, terribley bad.

 

*

"Mr. Borg? May… I enter?" Pixal asked, peeking into Cyrus's doorway.

"Pixal! Of course, of course…" He trailed off, already moving to his worktable. Typically, when Pixal came to his office unannounced, it was because a repair or alteration on her body was needed. "What is it that's wrong, my dear?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Cyrus though he saw Pixal look down to the floor, almost… ashamed.

"Well, sir, Mr. Borg, it's just…" For once, his best creation was lost for words. He waited patiently, with what he hoped to be a fatherly smile, as she attempted to gather her thoughts. "I was, um, thinking, perhaps…" She took a breath. "We could… change the design, t-the appearance? Of my body, that is."

He blinked, surprised. "Well of course, Pixal! If that's all that was needed… what sort of changes to you design did you have in mind?" He asked, already on his way to locate her blueprints.

Pixel wringed her hands together, presumably nervous. He hadn't programmed her with the capacity to feel anything like that, though. 'Mental note,' He thought to himself. 'stabilize emotional range.'

"Sir, I was thinking… Perhaps, if I felt… Well, instead of a…" She appeared lost and frustrated, as if searching for a lost memory.

"Pixal," He said gently. "How about, if you know what you want to change, you come and show me? On this paper?" H gestured to an empty sheet, the kind he normally used for writing disorganized ideas on.

Pixal silently made her way to his table, where he handed her the paper and a small black crayon he'd found amongst his mess of a desk.

He curiously watched her work, wondering what idea her ever-evolving mind could come up with. Whether in purpose or accidental he could not remember, but he had somehow formulated Pixal's consciousness like that of a child's; curious, innocent, unknowing. Simple.

The evidence of this was not only evident in how she interacted with the world, but how she acted apart from the world. He watched as she drew, not with sleek, masterful strokes one might expect from an otherwise perfect android, but with short, unsure lines, the same skill was could be seen in a kindergarten classroom.

Though Cyrus was often reminded of how much she grew everyday, Pixal often surprised him, with hints of her true child-like nature. Innocence.

"Is that…" He wondered aloud, looking down at her crude drawing. "Is that a male-based design?"

The shame from before resurfaced, hunching her metallic shoulders. "I just thought… I would like… a body like that… better than this…"

Understanding seeped though his brain, and he smiled. "Of course! I'll get to work on it right away."

He took the abandoned drawing from the table and started to move back to his main desk, to further design production… But he stopped.

"You know, Pixal…" Now it was his turn to struggle with words. Good thing he'd never had any actual kids. "No matter your appearance, whether you prefer your current body or this new one… I will always be lucky to call you mine. Always be loving you."

Pixal finally looked up at him, faintly smiling. "I know, father."

 

_*One month later*_

 

"Conscious transfer complete."

Pix slowly opened his eyes, quickly adjusting to the bright lab lights. If it was possbile, he felt groggy.

A door to his right swung open, and in rushed his father, the five ninja, and Nya.

"How ya feelin', buddy?" Jay asked, grinning as he lightheartedly hit Pix's bicep. He had been the one most excited about Pix's announcement, and contributed to the design as much as he could, full supportive.

"Good. Different, but good." This new body… it wasn't neccesarily heavier, just… sturdier. Firm. Strong, even.

"How is the compsoure? Is the muscle mass balanced? Does the-" Cyrus began, but Pix cut him off with a smile. "It is fine, father. We can always make future adjustments if needed."

Pix's father nodded and sighed, visibly relaxing. "You're right. It is fine."

 

*

Later that night, Pix was just preparing to power down when he heard a soft knock at the door. Cautious, he walked over and opened it.

Zane stood there, looking almost awkward, sheepish yet angelic as always. "Hello, Pix. May I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course…" Pix let him inside, a bit uncertain how to navigate from here.

"I never got to ask you earlier… Um, how… Do you like it?" Pix asked, only partially to break the silence, some of the nervousness from before coming back. Of all their reactions, the one he was scared of the most was what Zane's would be.

The other man smiled softly, only adding to the angelic look. "I think it - you look wonderful." Zane slowly moved toward him, letting Pix be aware of every little motion. "May I have a closer look?"

Pix didn't know when it had started, but some time ago he had began to wear clothes specific for sleeping while charging every night, like a human would before going to sleep. So now, cloth stood in the way of granting Zane's wish.

"Of course." Pix said simply, and Zane smiled gratefully as he began to unbutton Pix's shirt. It fell onto the floor around their feet.

"My… I didn't know it'd be this beautiful." Zane looked up from the shiny white alloy, decorated with purple marking across the chest and stomach areas. Their faces were within inches of each other.

"I know someone else who's been even more beautiful…" Pix murmured before closing his eyes, leaning forward, even balancing up on his toes, for even in this body, Zane still had severarl inches on him.

And their lips joined together, bodies slowly intertwining. Zane raised a hand into Pix's now-shorter hair, and Pix pulled Zane down closer to him by the neck. He opened his lips, as a little experiment, and Zane reacted perfectly, playing with his tongue the way a child would with a new toy. Passion flowed through every circuit, every program within, through his mouth into Zane, who he could tell felt the same.

Love. Pix had experienced many strange human emotions by now, but this… This felt right.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i have a few other works that have trans male pixal if you want to check them out ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Death of the Author](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19275295) by [Qotice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qotice/pseuds/Qotice)




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